This Is Gonna Be the Worst Day of Your Life
by Nothing Really Specific
Summary: Reepicheep isn't good with parenting, Caspian is having trouble with strategy, Trufflehunter is having family issues. So when everyone steps into one another's shoes, they realize that things are only going to get worse. A whole lot worse. AU/ In between PC and VDT.


**This Is Gonna Be the Worst Day of Your Life**

Theme Songs:

"Best Day of My Life" and

"Oh, What a Life"

both by American Authors

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**Author's Note: **

I will give a similar note to the one I originally gave in _Panchito: Season One,_

Comedy is subjective.

Keep these things in mind:

1. My brand of humor isn't going to appeal to everyone.

2. **Do not take this seriously.** (If you have an issue with something/anything let me know)

3. Please, for the love of all humanity if you do decide to review (I don't care if you do or not, I don't live and breathe for reviews) do not be this reviewer:

_I'm sorry to say that this is seriously fucked up and should never be read by anyone._

Yes, this is from an actual review I received._  
_

Don't be this person. It's rude. You can voice your opinion (I welcome differing opinions) but come on, I'm not that bad am I? (Also the cursing, refrain from cursing please)

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**Chapter One: Reepicheep Hates Mushrooms **_**That Much**_

**Cair Paravel**

This story, like all good stories, begins on a Wednesday.

On this particular Wednesday, Reepicheep was visiting Cair Paravel for about the eighty-seventh time this week. He was playing yet another re-match of chess with Caspian.

At the moment, they were in the library, which was one of those rooms you hear about in Italian love stories. Lofty ceilings, thousands upon thousands of sleeves with millions of books ranging from fiction to history all of them older than the land itself, complete with that old wood smell you find at historic houses.

The furniture was regal, as it should be, beautiful blue velvet upholstery in every seat and chair, mahogany tables that had been there since the Golden Age.

Caspian sat on a couch while Reepicheep stood on a coffee table made of cedar wood (which still had that cedar smell). The chess set, which was standard of 1944 England, wooden pieces painted black and white with matching board.

Caspian stroked his beard, which was still coming in. He was deciding what to do next for the mouse had outmaneuvered him...again.

The board looked like this. Reepicheep's fifth pawn from the left was moved up one space. Caspian's third pawn from the right was moved two spaces up. The mouse then moved his Queen next to his pawn, sitting her to the pawn's right.

The longer Caspian looked at the board the longer he imagined Reepicheep's pieces looking back and taunting him. The pawns were laughing, the King was enjoying a mid-day tea, the Queen was making a list of things she would to do after this embarrassing ordeal was over. The rooks were simply calling out to each other to see who could scream the loudest, the knights were casually tending to their horses and the bishops were drunk and didn't care anymore.

A bead of sweat rolled down Caspian's face as well as a face of intrigue and inductiveness. He sighed and placed his hand on the knight to his left.

"Well," Caspian said, "looks like you've beaten me again."

The mouse smiled a bit, "How many times does this make...one hundred and thirty seven."

"One hundred and thirty six and a half."

Reepicheep stared at him a moment, giving his superior a skeptical glare, "Is it possible to win half a chess game?"

"Yes," Caspian said, "Monday, three in the morning."

"Ah yes," the mouse replied, "that was very interesting."

"If I recall correctly, you were a bit drunk."

Reepicheep laughed a bit, "I don't think one glass of wine and a half pint of beer constitutes as drunk."

"Well you sir, have an awkward definition of the word _drunk_." Caspian played his move.

"The state at which the mind is incapable of thinking coherently and resorts to stupidity?" Reepicheep said.

"Yeah, something like that." Caspian replied as he watched the mouse move his queen up to take his pawn.

Caspian moved his knight back, laughing and shaking his head, having a difficult time believing that he was going to beaten again. "How do you always beat me?"

"You'd think after one-hundred and seventy-seven tries at this you would have learned something, Your Majesty." Reepicheep moved the bishop that was next to the king four spaces in a diagonal direction.

"When did you get this good?" Caspian asked, moving the pawn in front of the knight he moved back, his last defense.

"Tilden, my brother, taught me. You remember him don't you?"

"Vaguely," Caspian answered, "he died fairly recently didn't he?"

Reepicheep nodded, looking off to the side a bit, "In a week it'll be a year." He smiled slightly, "Well, this will be quite a story to tell, beating a King at strategy one-hundred eighty-eight times in a row."

"All of them well won, I'll admit to that."

The mouse habitually bowed in respect as he always did and exited the room with Caspian in tow. They both made it to the door and both remembered something they forgot, today was Wednesday.

"Did you remember to take care of 'the situation' this morning?" Caspian asked.

"No." The mouse answered, he sighed, "I hope they don't make a mess of the place."

"Is Trufflehunter taking care of it then?"

Reepicheep sighed, "I sure do hope so. If not, then well, the door will be bashed down in a matter of seconds."

As if on command, a fierce pounding came upon the door like stampeding horses. "Reepicheep!"

"Who is it?" The mouse asked.

"Who is it?" The voice parroted, "It's me you idiot, let me in before they-" Screaming, followed by roughhousing and active kicking and more screaming.

A bit of straining and a jump followed by the turning of a doorknob followed by a war beaten Trufflehunter. His fur was matted and burned and his eyes were bloodshot had several layers of bags under them. He looked like a rejected character from The Wind in the Willows. Badger's illegitimate brother or something, the kind of person that makes Quasimodo look like Prince Charming.

"Your family," Trufflehunter said breathing heavily, "is going to murder me one of these days."

"I'll take care of this." Reepicheep replied and stuck his head out in hallway. "Ceres, Damocles, Gilgamesh, Samson, Marcus Aurelius, and Gislebertus come here, front and center this instant!"

A brown blur scurried down the hallway on the other side, despite the distance, Reepicheep could tell who it was.

"Gislebertus, where are your brothers?"

"I don't know Reepicheep." Gislebertus, who was a gray mouse, said. "They might be out in the garden or something."

Reepicheep sighed, "Where is your sister then?"

"Right here!" She called. Ceres, a brown mouse that was Gislebertus' senior by three years, ran over as fast as her legs could carry her.

"What have I told you about murdering the shrew?" Reepicheep said with a not so friendly tone.

"To not do it." Ceres replied.

"And..."

"And to apologize to the doormat for they are very sensitive to blood." She said.

"Very good, now, care to explain what's wrong with Trufflehunter?" Reepicheep crossed his arms a bit, trying to be a bit more intimidating. His brow furrowed and his eyes were stern but as far as actual intimidation goes when it comes to his own kin, he's about as useless as a Shih-Tzu.

"You mean besides the fact that he's overreacting?" Ceres said, looking over Reepicheep's shoulder at a badger who wouldn't stop rocking back and forth in the fetal position.

"I am not overreacting!" Trufflehunter cried, "You and your mafia almost killed me right after that poor old shrew. You ought to be hanged, all of you! You're all sick and not to mention those awful mushrooms." He shivered, "Just thinking about the whole thing makes me vomit."

"I'll grab a pail." Caspian said.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," the badger replied as he stopped rocking and stood up, "but it was an expression."

"Now Ceres," Reepicheep said, "go round up everyone and tell them that we're leaving. Then I want you to apologize immediately to Trufflehunter and then pay condolences to the shrews. They may be psychopathic molesters but they're still our neighbors and your occasional sitters."

"Alright." Ceres said and closed the door behind her, leaving the adults to their business.

Caspian looked at the mouse a bit curiously, wanting to know what all this shrew business meant. "Is a family of shrews giving you trouble?"

"No," Reepicheep answered, "well if you count theft, murder, kidnapping, child molestation, ransom, and rioting at my front door trouble then I'd say we're just fine. The father seems likable anyway."

"He's dead." The badger said.

"Oh, Mister Jarvis?"

Trufflehunter nodded, "Apparently he was trying to steal a carrot from every single garden and make a stew."

"The things people get murdered for these days," the mouse said sighing a bit, letting his tail and whiskers drop. "I swear they'll run me in the ground in a year if this keeps up. I'm way too old to play foster parent."

He lay down on the floor and closed his eyes, taking a breather. The children walked down the hallway, smiling and laughing a bit along the way.

"I saw a dragon outside." Gilgamesh said with a laid back smile.

"It was not a dragon, it was a flower with eyes." Samson walked a bit drunkenly, almost hitting a wall.

"You're both wrong," Damocles said, "it was a large bird."

"Whatever," Marcus Aurelius replied laughing, "it doesn't matter what you saw. I know what I saw and I saw a-" he stopped walking and sat down on the floor, rocking a bit just like the badger was, "I saw a great, big, periwinkle!"

Damocles and Samson dragged Marcus across the floor, laughing and slowly walking toward the door. Ceres meanwhile, was trying to lead them all in a straight, orderly line.

"Come on then, control yourselves." She said to her siblings, "We're leaving soon and we don't want to look silly in front of the King now do we?"

She reached the door again and knocked slowly. "May we come in, Your Majesty?"

"You may." Caspian said as he opened the door for her and let them in.

The mice crowded around Reepicheep who was taking a power nap.

"Is he dead?" Damocles said, still a bit tipsy, noticing that Reepicheep wasn't moving.

"Of course not, he's Reepicheep, he's probably sleeping or something." Marcus said a slight smile on his face. "Wake up Reep!" The junior mouse kicked his senior.

Marcus made the mistake of leaning down into Reepicheep's face and made the mistake of breaking the noble mouse's one rule. Marcus smiled.

"Wake up, sleepyhead!"

Something was on Marcus' breath, something that Reepicheep was deathly allergic to and got into a frenzy whenever he smelled it. Reepicheep naturally breathed through his nose whenever he slept and he did so right about now as well as open his eyes.

"Marcus," he said calmly, "two things, first, clean your nose, and second, have you been eating those mushrooms again?"

"I told you Reep," Trufflehunter, "but do you listen to me, no, no one listens to Trufflehunter anymore."

"Truff," the mouse said, looking toward him, "shut up."

"To answer your question," Marcus said, "yup."

Reepicheep sighed, "If you make it home before I do, I'll forgive you this once, for our vendetta probably got in the way of your rational thinking."

"What about your chess games?" Ceres asked.

"Those my dear," Reepicheep said, "are brain training exercises, now, go, before my mushroom tolerance runs out and I start to-" his eye started to twitch. Not a good sign.

"Should we run?" Caspian asked.

"Yes," Trufflehunter answered, "yes we should."

Everyone except for Reepicheep exited the room quickly as possible, Caspian, who was the last one out, shut the door.

Silence. Caspian pressed his ear up to the door to listen in. Trufflehunter and the others were speeding down the hallway.

The badger looked back, "What are you doing Your Majesty?!" He shouted. "We have to get out of here!"

"Does he hate mushrooms that much?" Caspian asked.

The door creaked, quivered and shook, it was as if an earthquake were happening only to the door. Caspian backed away slowly as Reepicheep began sawing away at the upper hinge, or at least, he tried to. The poor fellow failed to realize in his rage that hinges are made of metal and his sword couldn't cut through it. Nonetheless, he sawed and sawed and sawed, and did it so much that smoke was stating and Caspian feared that there would eventually be a fire.

"Reepicheep!" Caspian shouted.

"Yes?" The mouse asked.

"Are you alright?"

"No, I hate mushrooms that much, now if you'll excuse me."

He continued sawing at the hinge and when it finally dawned on him that it wasn't going to work he gave up. Well, almost, he just moved on to the other hinge. Still sawing and sawing away.

After about five minutes of moving from hinge to hinge, the mouse opened the door, looked at his blade and noticed that it was a dull, bent, sad piece of metal.

"Well," he said as he entered the hallway looking at his sword, "best stay away from door hinges then."

"And mushrooms." Caspian added. "Why do you hate them so much anyway?"

"Bad experience." Reepicheep replied, "Traumatized me really, but let's just say that involved a horse, a stable boy, and a badger." He turned towards Trufflehunter, "It's your fault."

"It most certainly was not." The badger said. "If I recall correctly, it was yours."

"Really?"

"Yes!" Trufflehunter cried. "The stable boy gave you some, you ate them, after I specifically warned you that they might be the other kind but still you persisted and were high on the stuff for three days and then it made you sick. Oh and the children most likely beat you home."

Reepicheep laughed , "They always do." He said, as he, Trufflehunter and Caspian made their way to the front door.


End file.
